The world breathes faster

And the only thing a human can control is his soul.

“Self under self, a pile of selves I stand

Threaded on time, and with metaphysic hand

Lift the farm like a lid and see

Farm within farm, and in the centre, me.”

-       Norman MacCraig

 - 

The old man, who wore half broken glasses and a shabby jacket, sat at the bench beside me. His face was scrunched up, like old newspaper, or old maple leaves. He breathed heavily, with each breath pounding the wind’s face into another direction. I watched him, and without notice, I heard my breaths pounding the same wind. Or perhaps it was another.

 “Why do you breathe so heavily?” I asked. It’s not the best way to start a conversation, but I had a feeling he started it first.

“I don’t. I breathe normally. Like you.” He said. The words slid through my ears smoothly and steadily without hesitation or effort. He meant them.

“Not exactly. If you hear others carefully, you will notice the difference. Our breaths are slower. Sometimes, you don’t pay attention to it. It just happens, you don’t control it.”

I didn’t exactly control what I said either.

He made eye contact for the first time, and it was sharp, his eyes were sharp. They looked confused yet at the same time, clear.

“No.” He looked at the ground. “I want to control mine. It helps me feel alive.” The last word exited his mouth with a greater force, a greater strength than the others.

“But it helps you feel alive either way, without you even having to control it.” I said, doubting the fact that he will understand.

“No.” He shook with agitation, “I need to control it. Like how I control my farm and its animals, they help me feel alive, and so does breathing.”

I looked at the farm in front of us, and then smiled.

“Is this your farm?”

His heavy breaths signaled the answer. 
“It’s lovely. It’s really lovely.” I said, while examining the view. “Though, the animals do not seem controlled as you say, the farm doesn’t either. It seems pretty natural to me, pretty natural and free.”

His eyes rolled towards the direction of mine, and then rolled back. He always looked confused, always unsure of what to reply, but at the same time �" his replies came out sharp and freely, with no dust of uncertainty.

“You see that horse over there? I helped it walk. I planted this green grass and I let these animals grow. I brought them food. I brought them everything. I taught them how to live, and they depend on me.”

“You taught them how to live?”

“Yes. I did.”

I smirked, making sure he would not notice, even though he probably did.

“I think that’s a bit exaggerated, don’t you think? I’m sure these animals know how to live. Look at them, you’re far from where they are, and they’re still alive. They have no intelligence, yes, but they speak a language you cannot speak and smell senses you cannot smell. And even more than that, you depend on them.”

His eyes rolled towards me once again, but this time �" his confusion was growing, it was spreading beneath the layers of his skin.

“I depend on them?”

“Yes, you do. You get milk from that cow, you get eggs from the chickens, you get a living.” I explained, hoping that the words would find their way through his wrinkled skin. “You don’t control what helps you survive. You may think you do, but in reality, you’re the one that needs it the most. Just let the world does its job, you know? Let the farm help you earn a living and let your breaths help you remain alive. No need to control everything, or you will end up in the wrong way, like how your breaths are working at the wrong pace.”

I said, while observing the ducks that wobbled in two straight lines.

“But, what do I control then?” He asked, with eyes that looked young, like a child in the classroom begging for the information to enter his mind.

I looked at him, and then for a second, I was unsure on who asked the question, or who will give the right answer.

The ducks in two straight lines reached their mother, and then formed a single line.

“You control your self. Not your body, or your organs, or your breaths. These help you survive. But you control your true self, your soul.” I said, still unsure on how I was able to answer, but it came out anyway.

He looked at his farm carefully, squinting his eyes that revealed a cloud of his thoughts. And then he smiled.

“I must agree on that. It seems pretty accurate, I have to say. I live in the centre of this world. I have two worlds helping me to stay alive, two worlds that I depend on. And sometimes…”

He paused for a while, then gathered more clouds to join his thoughts.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m neither of them. I’m not my body, and I’m not this farm. I’m me, and me is my soul. The centre. The core.”

His replies were harder to comprehend this time, they were not as sharp and definite as before. Though, they revealed him more. They revealed a human.

I smiled gently, and then looked back at the ducks, as they wobbled behind their mother in a straight, firm line.

Reviews

[ANM]

I think this is a good story for me description and imagery only enhances the effect of the tale being told!

[00000000000000000000000..]

Sis that was some story:) I loved it:)

[Steve]

You have a nice style. I like the spacing you use in the paragraphs which makes it easier to read and enjoy your write.

Will you be adding more to this?

[Mirna]

Thank you so much :) I appreciate it.
and I write different short stories every other week because I'm usually busy with school work at the moment, but hopefully, I plan to write bigger pieces during the holidays:)

[Steve]

Well thank you for responding. I havent been here for a while. I will read more of your stuff! Take care

[Mirna]

Thank youu :) have a wonderful day x

[ValyrieKiennan]

Lovely.

However, watch your word choice. You don't want to describe things in the same way, especially not in the same sentence. For example, when you describe the "old newspapers" followed immediately by "old maple leaves". Word repetition is something to be aware of! Also, when it comes to your descriptions in general, get picky about it! Don't add a description unless it is integral to your telling of your story. Otherwise, you'll end up with a lot of description that helps the reader get lost in the story, rather than finding the tale you want to spin!

Your dialogue is wonderful, keep on working! I would always advise reading stories aloud to check for sentence structure/phrasing problems.

Cheers!

VK

[Mirna]

Ahh thank you so much for this review! I really appreciate it.
And yes, I usually get carried away when I start describing things, but I'll follow your advice:) thank you xx

[ValyrieKiennan]

No problem :) I find precise advise is the best kind - we're all trying to improve here. The greatest gift we can give to each other as writers, is honest and thoughtful criticism!

If you have time, feel free to return the favour and criticize one of my short stories/poems! Advice is always welcome

[Mirna]

Thank you:) and yes I will be delighted to!